There is a Season
by Kayrah
Summary: a csi gets shocking news and has to deal with the aftermath, leaving her friends completely clueless to what has happened there will be no romance just friendship. this is a special story to me, read my notes to find out why fin
1. Default Chapter

Hi everyone. Yes, I know that I have another story I have some stories I have to work on, but this is a story I need to do. You see, a family member of mine has been diagnosed with cancer and it's untreatable. So this is a story to help me cope. It will have a few chapters in it, so bear with me. I will update the other stories by this weekend. SD- CSI does not belong to me  
  
  
  
My mother called me today. I hadn't heard from her in month, so the call alone was astonishing. I heard the news and I was shocked. It felt like someone had just slapped me across the face.  
  
"Sara, honey, this is your mother,"  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"I need to tell you something about your father,"  
  
"What?"  
  
"He's dead."  
  
"What!"  
  
"He had cancer. It went unnoticed until recently. He died last night."  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"The funeral's in three days. On Tuesday."  
  
"I'll be there."  
  
I don't know how I managed to keep my voice calm. Maybe it was all the year's I've worked with dead bodies.  
  
'He's dead.'  
  
My mother's voice echoed in my mind as I stood there, clutching the phone in my hand, shocked. My eggs were burning, but I didn't care. Finally, almost unconsciously, I turned the stove off. I somehow finished getting ready, but I completely skipped my breakfast. I took no notice of the time; I didn't care what time it was. I put on my gun and my badge, grabbed my keys, and headed out the door.  
  
'He's dead.'  
  
I didn't shed a tear. Not one. I was unfeeling. A zombie with a beating heart. I felt ice cold and separated from the entire world. Numb. I climbed into my car and drove off; to work, my only haven, my only protection from the outside world.  
  
I drove into the parking lot, turned off the engine, and got out of the car. I closed and locked the door, slipping the keys into my back pocket. I pushed open the door to my building and into the locker room. The room was empty so I silently, and gently placed my things into my assigned locker. That was odd, I usually threw them in to get to the lab as quickly as I could. I didn't care. I carefully shut the door to my locker so that it wouldn't make a lot of noise. I headed to the brake room for an assignment. I entered the brake room silently because Grissom was in the middle of talking to us and slipped off to an empty space by Catherine. The room fell silent and I could see the others' shocked faces. Nick was the first to speak up.  
  
"Whoa! Sara Sidle, late to work. Is this a first?"  
  
Instead of a sarcastic comment or evil look I would have normally given him, I looked at him calmly and sat down. I think that that action freaked them out some. Grissom gave me a raised eyebrow. Warrick looked shocked. Nick looked frightened. And Catherine just looked concerned. I motioned for Grissom to continue.  
  
"All of you know your assignments. Sara, come with Catherine and me," he said.  
  
Everyone stood up and I did too. As I started to walk out of the room, Catherine grabbed my arm.  
  
"Are you ok, Sara?" she asked me.  
  
"I'm fine. Why do you ask?" I asked her in a flat voice.  
  
"You seem a bit, off," she said.  
  
'Of course I'm a bit off!' I wanted to scream at her. 'My dad's dead!' But I didn't, I calmly smiled at her and reassured her with an "I'm fine" and headed out the door to find Grissom.  
  
I found that man halfway down the hallway and I had to jog to catch up with him.  
  
"Grissom!" I said, to get his attention.  
  
He turned around to look at me, a question clearly in his eyes. "Yes, Sara?"  
  
"I have to take a week off, starting now. Family emergency," I said to end the conversation.  
  
Before he could say anything, Catherine caught up to us. I turned on my heels and walked away. No words. No explanation. No anything. Nothing. That's how I wanted it to be. I didn't care what rumors were spread. As I walked, I could feel Grissom's and Catherine's eyes boring into the back of my head, and the one question they wanted to ask, 'why?'. 


	2. chapter 2

Thanks for all your support, it means a lot to me. Note: preachers do wear white robes at funerals, it's supposed to make it a more pleasant atmosphere. My family member is doing fine. Today is my birthday!!!  
  
SD-The poem For Everything There Is a Season does not belong to me, but to the person it belongs to. CSI doesn't belong to me.  
  
I stopped off at the mall and picked up a black dress. It was pretty but plain, and black. Black, the color of mourning. I took the dress and got into my car, and started to drive.  
  
I arrived just in time for the funeral. I still had not cried or displayed any emotion at all. I walked into the church; it was filled with people. I walked into the church and a poem popped into my head.  
  
For everything there is a season,  
  
I spotted my mother in the first pew. I stood up straighter and joined her. When I sat down next to her, she turned and smiled at me with tears in her eyes; I simply nodded my head to her.  
  
"He did so much," she said under her breath.  
  
"I know," I whispered back soothingly.  
  
And a time for every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die;  
  
"Do you remember when I was sick and he would tend the flowers for me?" my mom asked. I wanted to quiet her because the service was going to start soon.  
  
A time to plant, and a time to pluck what has been planted;  
  
The preacher came out in his white robes; I wanted them to be black. He started the service by greeting everyone, and giving his condolences to his family and friends. Then he recited the same poem.  
  
"For every thing there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the heaven: A time to be born, and a time to die; A time to plant, and a time to pluck what has been planted; A time to kill, and a time to heal; A time to break down, and a time to build up; A time to weep, and a time to laugh; A time to mourn, and a time to dance; A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather the stones together; A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing; A time to get, and a time to lose; A time to keep, and a time to cast away; A time to rend, and a time to sew; A time to keep silence, and a time to speak; A time to love, and a time to hate; A time of war, and a time of peace."  
  
I wanted to smile, but still no emotions were stirring within me. I continued the service with a stone cold heart and a stone cold face.  
  
As we watched the casket be lowered into the ground, one small, silent tear drifted down my face. I whipped it away quickly and no other followed. After the funeral, my mother gave me a reassuring hug, I got back into my car, and started the drive home, to Vegas. Funny how I consider it my home now.  
  
The entire ride home I spent remembering my father. I wanted to pick up my cell phone and call Grissom, or even better, Catherine, for reassurance; but something in my kept me from doing so.  
  
I reached Vegas in time to go home and have a short three-hour nap before shift started; my leave had just expired. I went into my apartment, and put on something other than the stupid dress, which had been wearing for the past three days. I put on my work clothes, a pair of Jeans and a sleeveless top. After I put the clothes on, I looked around at my clean apartment, and my emotions kicked in. 


	3. chapter 3

Author's note: He died last night. This story is for him and whoever has lost someone to this disease.  
  
I became angry; no, I became furious. I was furious with my dad for dying, my mother for telling me, and me, for not being there, not knowing, and not caring about him. I threw myself into a fit of rage.  
  
I somehow decided to take my rage out on any object I owned and that I could find. Luckily, no one else was home at this time to hear me. I sprinted over to my desk, which a used as my office, and in one swift movement, whipped it clean, sending everything, including the computer, crashing to the floor. Then I moved to most of my plants, their beautiful pots scattering their pieces all over my apartment. I clear my coffee table of its empty coffee cups, and even one half-full one. The liquid seeped into my blue carpet and proceeded to stain it. After almost every object I owned was on the floor, including anything in drawers and cabinets, I went over a to smash the plant Grissom had given me a few months earlier.  
  
I looked at it and something clicked, I started to back away and the tears started to fall. I ran over and dove into my bed, even though it was only a mattress at the moment, I had torn all the covers off. I had cried like I had not cried in the whole week since I found out he was dead. I lay there sobbing furiously until my sobbing slowed into the small breaths that indicate sleep.  
  
I was awakened by a sound at my door. A large pounding I recognized as the sound of an impatient police officer in the middle of a case. I looked at my watch and saw that I had been home only an hour and a half.  
  
"Just a minute!" I yelled out and the pounding stopped.  
  
I walked into my bathroom and washed my face. After washing away any evidence that I had been crying, I walked to the door and opened it and surprisingly saw Catherine, Grissom, and Brass standing at my door. Keeping my door unlocked I walked into the hallway and closed the door, not letting them see the interior of my apartment.  
  
"Why are you here?" I asked them.  
  
"We are investigating the murder of Hank Perigrew," Brass informed me.  
  
Okay, now that was just too much for my already frazzled nerves. I broke down in tears, surprising the hell out of Catherine, Grissom and Brass, who were obviously not expecting that reaction. The three of them just stood there shocked. My body slowly slipped down the door and I landed on the floor. Catherine was the first to come to her senses.  
  
"Sara," she asked, "are you all right?"  
  
"Go away," I muttered, so softly she could barely hear me.  
  
"What?" she asked me. My voice suddenly became forceful and a stood up. "Go away and leave me alone!" I yelled, hurrying into my apartment and slamming the door. I forgot to lock it. I ran to my couch and continued to sob.  
  
Catherine, being her nosy self, came into my apartment to 'help' me. Grissom and Brass followed. The three were shocked to see my apartment in such disarray.  
  
"What the hell?" Brass asked.  
  
"Sara, I think you need some help," Catherine said, sitting down beside me.  
  
"I don't need any help! What I need is you to go away!" I yelled, surprising myself.  
  
Grissom hit the play button on the message taker. The first message that played was my mother calling me.  
  
"He's dead."  
  
Her saying hit me. And I didn't remember having it on to record that message. I started to cry again.  
  
"Sara, why didn't you tell us?" Catherine asked, concern written all over her face.  
  
"Because it's none of you business," I snapped.  
  
Catherine only smiled and gave my hard a reassuring squeeze.  
  
"I'm guessing you have an alibi," she said, standing up and signaling Grissom and Brass that they would be leaving soon. "If you need us, we'll be here."  
  
"And don't even think about coming to work until you're ready," Grissom said sternly.  
  
They started to walk out the door. Grissom's phone rang.  
  
"Grissom. Yes, thank you," he said, than he hung up.  
  
"Blood matches the partner, we got him," Grissom said. Then they walked out the door with one last of Catherine's motherly looks.  
  
Two weeks later I walked into the Las Vegas Crime Lab with my head held high. Hank had been buried the week before and Catherine had threatened me into grief counseling. Catherine had been a great supporter, she helped me fix my computer and clean up my apartment. Nick and Greg both sent me plants (I think Grissom had started a trend). Warrick sent me a beautiful song he had written. Lindsey painted me a lovely picture, and proudly presented it to me, which is now tacked on to my refrigerator. Grissom, being Grissom in his complete ignorance to people, sent me a 'Get Well Soon' card with little pictures of bugs on it. Despite its cheeziness, I loved it.  
  
When I walked into the brake room, everyone straightened up.  
  
"How are you doing, Sara?" Catherine asked her.  
  
"Great! The best I've felt in about a month," I said smiling. Everyone relaxed a little.  
  
"Sara, I am putting you on a single homicide with Catherine, to get you back in the swing of things," Grissom said, completely out of character, I think he was trying to make up for the card, then he pretty much ignored me for the rest of the shift.  
  
Yes, everything would be back to normal. One day at a time. 


End file.
